


tell you how badly i need (to bruise your neck with my mouth)

by landica



Category: Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Drunk Anakin, I'm Sorry, M/M, Protective Obi-Wan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 15:32:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6710845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/landica/pseuds/landica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He just feels loopy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tell you how badly i need (to bruise your neck with my mouth)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really have a timeline for this...
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings: there's a little suicidal ideation

He's drunk. He knows that. The amber liquid swishes around the bottle when he swirls it and he thinks it reminds him of gritty sand under his nails and in his eyes and the little drop in his stomach every time he walks onto a ship.

The alcohol might have had a little spice mixed in. Not that it matters, the point was to make him feel something other than pain.

He just feels loopy.

The dreams are worse now and Palpatine is asking after him more and more and Padmé is worried and so is Obi-Wan and he just wishes he didn't feel so lost. So angry.

Half the time, he's not even sure why he's angry, it only happens. It builds and builds and then crashes against him until he shakes and roars.

Force, he's drunk.

The door to his room beeps open and there's a sigh from somewhere above him. He doesn't open his eyes or look up or pretend he's anything but depressed and inebriated. He knows who it is, anyway. 

"Come to lecture me back to sleep, Master?" He mumbles, trying to will away the pounding in his skull that the latest vision happened to leave behind. 

He thinks of his mother and he wants to cry. He hates that. He hates that ever since he can remember his emotions tumble out of him like greetings, that they do rule him even if he tells his Master otherwise.

His Master.

There used to be so much hate in that, then love, now there's only longing and self pity. So much longing and all the time, curled up tight in his belly every time the sun catches Obi-Wan's eyes just right. Ah, well.

"Anakin, would you like to explain why the Senator called me quite worried about you?" Obi-Wan asks, he's crouched in front of Anakin now, "Why she was worried enough to mention a secret you didn't entrust me with, a secret that could ruin you both?"

 _Oh, will you listen to that_ , Anakin thinks lazily. _Huh_. He should be worried, he supposes, his Master could tell the Order, could tell the whole Republic what he and Padmé have. 

Had. 

"Semantics, " he clucks softly to himself. 

Anakin hums and is suddenly, and happily, struck with the realization that he simply doesn't care. He could die right now and not care about one thing.

He blinks at Obi-Wan and his gaze drifts down to his Master's lips.

The young knight sighs wistfully. Maybe he'd miss one thing.

Although, it seems like he's been missing _that_ since he was seventeen. 

He could embrace the Force and drift for ages and probably still miss that. 

He reaches out and runs his metal fingers down Obi-Wan's chest and sighs again. More melancholy wisps of death and the beckoning void of the Force tangled up in his thoughts.  

His Master frowns at him, "Padawan, the Order-"

"Hang the Order, " Anakin hisses, durasteel fingers tangled up in his Master's robe, bringing Obi-Wan's face closer to his own. He wants to spit and seethe and make him see. See all that he's seen; all the gut tearing visions and collared people and blood on his hands. He feels guilty, so guilty, but there's no reason to or there isn't yet. Or was. 

_Padmé._

_Ahsoka._

"Anakin, look at me."

A sob catches in his throat instead of angry words, he feels his mind being rendered in two almost every time he falls asleep and Obi-Wan wants to talk about _the Order_. 

Nothing's happened yet. Maybe... Maybe if Anakin isn't here, it won't happen at all.

"Anakin!" His Master growls, still right in his face and Anakin shivers, shoves his face into Obi-Wan's neck and breathes in until he can't. Another sob escapes and he wishes he could pluck it back from the air and stuff it back down his throat. Vaguely, he feels Obi-Wan slide his hand up Anakin's shoulder, squeezing rather tightly.

 _Weak_ , Palpatine had said when Anakin mentioned leaving the Core planets, find somewhere on the Outer Rim. Maybe further. 

"Yeah." Anakin whimpers in agreement into his Master's neck. He mouths up a tiny bit, skimming his teeth against smooth skin. 

Yes.

"I am weak," he mutters to himself, as his lips scrape across Obi-Wan's beard and slip up against his Master's chapped lips and says it again, "I am weak and tired, Master. All I wish for is sleep and even that seems to elude me."

His Master hasn't jerked back or scoffed,  he remains pressed nose to nose with Anakin and the young knight babbles on, "I am _sick_ of war. I am _sick_ of death. _I am sick of living, Obi-Wan._ "

He notices that Obi-Wan's eyes flicker at that last part, something pained and shuttered that Anakin knows better than most. 

Anakin chuckles, humorless but not bitter as he nudges his chin and lips against Obi-Wan's beard, "And in the morning you will be gone and I will still feel like this only hung over as well. Tell me, Obi-Wan, why should I ever want to greet a morning such as that?'

Obi-Wan says nothing, his fingers are still curled tight around Anakin's arms and then Anakin is crushed against his Master's chest and his sobs are overlapping one another.

Nothing's better, he knows, the visions will still come and his emotions will roll and Obi-Wan will not be here in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> It was after two in morning when I wrote this and I was a little drunk myself and all I could see was how tired Anakin looked in Episode Three ~~when he wasn't an angry little shit~~ and I'm sorry


End file.
